


He Bowed and Nothing Changed

by trueunbeliever



Category: Merlin (TV), Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Crossover, Decay, Demons, M/M, Nephilim, Oneshot, Plotting, Searching for Vessel, Sir Lucifer, Uthifer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-06
Updated: 2013-12-06
Packaged: 2018-01-03 15:41:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1072208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trueunbeliever/pseuds/trueunbeliever
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stupid Samuel Winchester! It's bad enough that Lucifer's current vessel can barely hold him, but the recent loss of extremities has him worried about gaining the Winchester's permission in time. He's wearing the only other meat suit on the planet that can house him without exploding... well, now anyway. Then, Lucifer gets an idea. What if he goes back in time to find one that can accommodate him until he is able to gain entrance to his true vessel? So, he searches and comes up with one: King Uther Pendragon of Camelot. </p><p>Bit of (not really) slash, nothing graphic. Mostly plotting and Lucifer angsting over being cast into his cage. Oneshot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	He Bowed and Nothing Changed

**Author's Note:**

> Written for my sister who, after some confusion over Uther's name, insisted on calling him 'Uthifer' because he's such a dick. One thought led to another and she requested an extremely mild Lucifer/Uther slashfic in the form of a oneshot. Here you go, sis. Hope you like it. 
> 
> P.S. I don't own Jack, Joe, or Mary Beth. Neither do I own any characters in this fic. It was written completely for fun, the only profit being my own, personal enjoyment. Read on!
> 
> P.P.S. *SPOILERS* up to season 6 for Spn. This takes place toward the end of season 5ish and references some episodes in the season as well.

Lucifer knew that things were bad when his pinky toe fell off. Sure, he knew that things were going to get bad long before this, but the toe was a real sign that he was running out of time. The vessel he was in wouldn’t last much longer. It was decaying at a rapid pace, much quicker than he’d hoped or even planned for. If Sam Winchester wasn’t so damn stubborn he wouldn’t be having this problem.

If he were a lesser being than the one he was, he would have lashed out with his powers or, at the very least, taken his anger out on the crumbling barn around him, maybe kicked a wooden beam or two. But he wasn’t—a lesser being that is—so he didn’t. Instead, like he always did in times like these, he began to think. The wheels in his head started turning, contemplating what few options he had now that he had only a limited amount of time to work with.

He needed a body, fast. Winchester was out of the question, not that he couldn’t break the boy if he wished. It was more so about doing it before the vessel he was in exploded. Sam was proving to be a tough will to break despite the things he’d been through—or was it _because_ of the things he’d been through? Lucifer couldn’t be sure, didn’t care really. What he cared about was finding another person who could house his grace without deteriorating at the pathetically rapid pace this one was.

Closing his eyes to block out any distractions, Lucifer spread his senses out to encompass the planet. He’d done this a few times since his release from the cage, but it always came with a price. This time, he could feel his liver failing inside of him, not that he had a need for such things. Sure he could keep repairing the body he was in, but it was a vicious circle. The more of his grace that he used, the more it destroyed his vessel. Anything he healed would just cause something else to malfunction and on and on it went.

It was important, though, that he find another body so he took his chances and extended himself, searching for just one small blip that would signify a potential vessel. Sam wouldn’t be on this list. Something one of his damn brothers had done masked both of the Winchesters from prying eyes—including Lucifer’s.

Car? Cat? Cas? Something like that. He didn’t care. All that he cared about was finding another target.

Nothing. No blip. No spark. Just the dull white lights of ordinary souls encompassing the planet. Sure, some glowed brighter than others and could house the graces of less powerful angels, but Lucifer wasn’t one of them. He was an archangel— _The_ Archangel—and he needed a special type of vessel to even be able to contain him, let alone allow him to use his grace. He wouldn’t go up against Michael in his new vessel, that was for certain. He just needed someone to buy him some time to procure his true vessel. It was the only one in existence—past, present, or future—that could easily house the significant grace of the fallen archangel. There wasn’t one that was its equal, not that Sam appreciated what that meant. He just kept on refusing to be a part of Lucifer’s and Michael’s plans. The hairless ape just didn’t understand the importance of their unification.

Sam was tailor made for him. Every nook and cranny and crevasse in Sam was suited specifically for Lucifer. Sam may occupy it at the moment, but it was ultimately Lucifer’s vessel and he would obtain it one way or another.

Unfortunately, there seemed to be nothing Lucifer could to about it. There was only one other body, beside Sam’s, that could house his grace for any period of time, and he happened to be wearing it at the moment. So there was nothing, no one who could buy him enough time to convince Sam to say ‘yes.’

He needed time.

Normally, being an angel and all, he would have scoffed at the idea of needing time to accomplish something. He could bend time and space, part the heavens at will, but all of that would take a toll on his body and that wasn’t something he could afford to do.

Not that there was another option, he argued with himself. There was no other way for him to get what he needed. It would be a bit of a gamble and would force him to play things pretty close to the vest, but it wasn’t like he could just snap his fingers and make another vessel appear, not anymore. Time it was then, he decided. If there wasn’t a compatible vessel in this time, he would find one in another.

Lucifer ignored the cessation of his bodily functions as he mentally searched through time. He scanned bodies quickly, going back hundreds—thousands—of years without finding anything. He counted himself lucky that there had even been a useable body for him to possess at all. It had to be fate.

Aha!

Fifteen centuries of people and there was one—one single vessel for him to possess. With permission, of course.

It was only seconds later that he found himself in the fifth century, surrounded by raggedy villagers and the smell of manure. To be fair, Lucifer thought that pretty much everything on Earth had that same tinge to it whether he was in the fifth, sixth, or the twenty-first century.

With a snap of his fingers, Lucifer’s tattered button down and jeans were traded in for even more tattered breeches and a tunic. For this, he would need to blend in. It wasn’t everyday one went in search of a king.

 

__________

 

Lucifer was impressed at how many masked souls there were in Camelot. Walking through the square, he could sense four of them. He masked a sneer when he realized what they were. Nephilim. The abominations that were created by the procreation between angels and humans. As if humans weren’t bad enough, some of his brethren had decided to mate with them. Disgusting.

Even his father thought so, it seemed, for it was decreed that they were to be killed on sight. Unfortunately for him, these didn’t seem to be the soulless creatures that he could smite at will. Their blood was diluted by generations, leaving them with a minute power of angels and the souls of mortals. To Lucifer, they were even worse than the full-blood nephilim who were the epitome of evil. These ones fancied themselves above angels and humans, taking the best of both but belonging to neither. If he had had a working body, it would have made bile rise in his throat.

That wasn’t why he was here, though. He was here to procure another vessel and to do that, he needed to have an audience with the king. It would be simple enough, he thought, to convince him. People in these times were simpletons. They would willing throw their lives away after a few quick tricks, even a king. _Especially_ a king. A chance to become the all-powerful vessel of the great angel Lucifer himself would have him jumping at the chance. Then the angel and his new meat suit would be on their way to the future to convince Samuel Winchester just how bad things could get if he continued to deny—

The thought abruptly cut short at the instant commotion in the square. Lucifer stood at the wall of the castle so he could have a better vantage of the events taking place. A half-dozen guards armed with swords and ranseurs escorted a chained homely man to the middle of a square. Another guard trailed behind, axe in hand.

Lucifer giddied at the thought of witnessing an execution, especially a beheading. Or maybe it was worse than that. Maybe he would get to see a dismembering instead. It definitely warranted his attention either way. It wasn’t everyday that he got to see humans kill each other calmly, not in battle. Normally, that was _his_ job.

The king in question came out onto the balcony overlooking the square. The people quieted down and drew their eyes to him. Though older than most of his vessels were, Uther Pendragon carried himself with an air he recognized in himself. He drew attention wherever he went and carried power on his sleeve. The man above him was much more prideful than he would have considered himself to be, but aside from that the familiarity was uncanny.

“Not many of you remember the war, when sorcery brought pain and destruction to Camelot and all of its surrounding kingdoms. It was only through the persistence of our armies that we were not destroyed. There is reason for the decisions made on behalf of this kingdom. I pride myself on being a just and fair king, but I will not abide by sorcery. It stems from evil and brings nothing but pain and death. There can only be one sentence for someone who practices magic in Camelot. Dreston Orcount, you have been accused, tried,  and found guilty of being a sorcerer and are to be put to death.”

With a wave of his arm, the guards pushed him to his knees. He was bent over, his neck exposed. The axe swung quickly, detaching the sorcerer’s head with one blow. It rolled slightly, just a foot away from his body, but it was enough for Lucifer to see the blood dripping it in a trail away from it. He smiled at the sight.

The rest of the crowd let out a small gasp, but did nothing to object to the public execution.

The king rose his arms and addressed his people again. “The laws that are instilled in Camelot are for your protection. In recent months, there has been a large increase in sorcery and, as such, I will be instilling safeguards to take effect immediately. I will not see this land fall prey to war again. There is peace in our lands and there will continue to be so. This, I vow.”

Before anyone could react, the king turned his back and reentered his castle. The guards carried off the body of the supposed ‘sorcerer’ and the villagers returned to whatever they had been doing before the interruption. The disregard these people had shown their fellow man both pleased and appalled Lucifer. It was cowardice that had them cowering beneath their king with refusal to protest. If it had been one of Lucifer’s brothers on the chopping block, nothing would have stopped him from saving him. But what did he expect of the apes? They were too worried for their own hides to do anything of import. They weren’t thinkers.

Oh, but wait a minute.

Lucifer caught a glimpse of a man on the periphery of the village square as he was. He was lanky and young, with too big ears and a stern expression that didn’t sit right on his face. Lucifer could sense that this one was of the nephilim. He was powerful, that was for sure, more powerful than any of the others. Lucifer guessed that either his father or his mother was, in fact, a pure nephilim. In these times, it was a very rare occurrence for one to have survived long enough to produce further offspring. The others’ blood was well diluted, fifth and sixth generations at the very least. This one, though, had immense power for one so young. And by the looks of it, he was angry at the king’s imprudence.

He leveled a gaze at the young man who seemed to notice him staring. Lucifer allowed his mouth to quirk into a half smile in a warning to him. He did not want to cause any unprecedented ripples through time that could circumvent his own release from the cage so he would refrain from killing the boy. Unless, that is, he caused too much trouble. A single servant shouldn’t be too important in the grand scheme of things, he didn’t think.

The nephilim looked back at him suspiciously, sensing perhaps Lucifer’s otherness. He seemed to come to some sort of realization then and scurried away quickly. Lucifer allowed himself a small chuckle at the scene.

He turned his head back up at the balcony where the king had stood just minutes before. The king abhorred magic, it seemed. It would make it a bit harder to trick the man into allowing him entrance, but it was nothing Lucifer couldn’t handle. If magic tricks wouldn’t work, then that left cold-hearted manipulation of the purest kind. It made Lucifer tingly inside at the challenge.

Lucifer hid himself behind a cobbler’s shed and summoned a throng of demons from the depths of the pit. They took vessels from common peasants in the surrounding villages and came quickly to him, accepting their orders. He sent them off on various errands and awaited their successful returns before he could truly set his plan in motion.

 

__________

 

Outside of the city, a half-dozen demons surrounded Lucifer while he tweaked their plan. With a snap of his fingers—and the death of his kidneys—Lucifer’s clothes were replaced by a faded, but comely, green tunic and black breeches, bound together by a silver belt. Heavy armor graced his shoulders, over his tunic, and down his arms. A ornate crest featuring a four-legged snake wound around a large fruit tree was present on his shield. He crafted his angel blade into a sword and slid it in the scabbard at his hip. Lucifer mounted the horse that had also been summoned, looking every bit the knight he portrayed himself to be.

Another snap of his fingers and the demons around him were dressed similarly, though less ornately. Each rode a horse and sported Lucifer’s crest, weapons in hand or on hip. With a smirk, Lucifer set about scorching and tearing the fabric of their clothing. He even went as far as injuring one of the horses and doling out a few flesh wounds. He needed authenticity and no one could ever honestly state that Lucifer ever did things part way. It wasn’t in his nature.

With that, Lucifer led the demons— _knights,_ he corrected himself—at a gallop straight through the city and up to the castle. The demons all had their orders and he would trust them to be carried out at the appropriate times.

Whether they had been spotted beforehand and the king had come out to greet them himself, or if Lucifer was just particularly lucky to have chosen a time when the king was out of his castle, Lucifer didn’t know. What he did know was that the collapse of the demon— _knight_ —just behind him lent to their credibility.

“What is this about?” King Uther Pendragon addressed Lucifer.

“I apologize for the abruptness of our visit,” Lucifer began, playing his part, even going the extra mile and panting with feigned exhaustion. “We come with word from King Olaf.”

Two of Lucifer’s men began tending to the fallen knight.

“Olaf?” the king questioned hesitantly. His blatant distrust would have made Lucifer laugh if he had had less self control. As it was, he was barely able to contain the smirk he wanted to display.

“Yes, sire,” Lucifer said solemnly. “But in the forest, we encountered a team of druids. They were in possession of powerful charms and enchantments that alerted them to our presence. We were lucky to make it out alive. As it was, we lost four of our men.”

“And the druids?” the king asked.

“Escaped, unfortunately. We were taken by surprise,” he explained. “They meant to launch an attack on Camelot. It was only by chance that we intercepted them.”

“Of course.” Uther’s face had darkened at the talk of magic. He seemed lost in thought now, as if the men broken and bleeding in front of him were of no import. Lucifer found the man’s ability to discount his fellow man a bit refreshing. It had been a while since he’d met someone with a similar lack of concern for those he was surrounded by. Even the demons who surrounded him now were merely puppets to him, just as King Uther’s men were pawns for him to use in order to achieve his own ends.

Uther waved some guards forward and instructed them to take Lucifer’s knights to someone named ‘Gaius’ in order to treat their wounds while he retreated into his castle. Lucifer followed the men as far as the guards allowed. His wounds were discounted as superficial and he was taken immediately for an audience with the king.

 

__________

 

“He was quite impressed with your son’s display of affections for Lady Vivian and wishes for them to marry. He believes that a unification of your kingdoms is vital in this day and age, sire.” Lucifer lowered his head. It was as far as he would go to bowing to the king. He would not bow to humanity when his father commanded it and he would not bow now. A display of respect, however, was vital in his plans so he lowered his head and spoke respectfully.

“They are… very young,” the king said hesitantly. “While I mean no disrespect to your king, surely there is plenty of time for them to consider potential spouses.”

“Yes, sire,” Lucifer said. “Though, I believe this has much to do with the increase in the practice of sorcery in recent months.”

“Explain,” the king commanded.

“As you are aware, since the purge, many kingdoms have followed your example and taken to cleansing their lands of all magic. King Olaf was of the first to follow you in the purge.”

King Uther was well aware of the effects the purge had left on the neighboring kingdoms. Many sorcerers fled to the adjourning kingdoms in an attempt to escape. Those who weren’t cut off by Uther’s men were taken by other kings and publicly executed. Almost nowhere in the Five Kingdoms was sorcery practiced, let alone so openly. The recent increase, however, was definitely cause for concern.

“King Olaf believes that those who escaped the Great Purge are gathering together…” Lucifer allowed his words to trail off and he hesitated, hoping the king would take the bait.

“What is it?” Uther asked.

“He believes that they are targeting you, sire. The recent magical activity was merely a test of your defenses. Thus far, Camelot as been lucky to have such a well prepared king, but Olaf believes that the sorcerers are planning something much larger than anything you have faced.”

“I see,” Uther said, contemplating the new information. He sorted through it and found that it made sense. He’d had dealings with sorcerers before and he knew they were cunning and patient. Whoever was behind this would have to be a formidable opponent indeed if he had been the one to coordinate the recent attacks on his kingdom. How that related to his son’s future spouse, he didn’t know. “And what has this to do with Arthur and Vivian?” he asked.

“Though peace talks have taken place, the sorcerer responsible for these attacks has will to believe there is still atrocity that exists between kingdoms. As it was with King Alined, he believes that the sorcerer plans to slowly breakdown the hierarchy of these lands. A united front, sire, may be the key to preventing any upcoming threats such a sorcerer may pose.”

Lucifer stood down and allowed the king to contemplate everything he had said. It wasn’t hard to peek into Uther’s mind and restate the things he had not been allowing himself to think about. The recent increase in magic in his kingdom was something he had been trying to push down, deep beneath his subconscious—along with a few other choice details Lucifer was giddy to exploit. Bringing these things to light, the king was unable to deny it any longer. He must act to save his people. Lucifer could see decisions being made, including sending out a messenger to confront Olaf himself. Lucifer would easily have him intercepted.

“I believe you are right,” the king said slowly. “A united front will do well to dispel any sorcerers who would consider an attack on Camelot. Already, there have been too many casualties of this war. It would do well to prevent any others.” King Uther looked at him then, his face probing, but thoughtful. “Your men are few among the many casualties of war, but you have proven yourselves honorable and more than capable in holding out against such a daunting enemy, though not even you has escaped unscathed I see.”

Lucifer was confused for a moment before he realized that his body was showing signs of deterioration. “’Tis nothing, sire. It was my men who sustained the brunt of the attack. Compared to them, this is but a scratch.”

“You are too modest. Surviving against one well versed sorcerer is impressive. Against a group, unprepared, is… unprecedented.”

“Thank you, sire.” Lucifer held his gaze then and watched a low blush attempt to crawl its way to Uther’s face. He held it back through years of practice and, if Lucifer wasn’t in his head, he wouldn’t have known there was even an inkling to begin with. But Lucifer was in his head so he was well aware of the effect he had on the king.

“I wouldn’t want to keep you from attending your men,” the king said.

“Thank you, sire.” Lucifer would go see the men who were with the physician, but he wouldn’t be attending them. He have a few other assignments to issue, the first being to intercept the messenger Uther planned on sending.

“I will have the servants prepare a room for you to keep while your knights recover. If you require anything else, I will be more than willing to provide you with anything you need. You have more than done a duty to your king. You have done a great service to Camelot as well and you are welcome as long as you wish to stay.”

“You have been most kind already, sire,” Lucifer said with a enticing smile. “I am positive my quarters will be suitable. Surely anything more would be acquisitive of me.”

“Nonsense,” Uther stopped him, a small smile playing on his lips as well. “I am in your debt, Sir Lucifer. I do not take these incidences lightly.”

“Of course, sire,” Lucifer said.

 

__________

 

“I’ve never seen anything like this,” Gaius said, probing at Lucifer’s face.

Lucifer was fed up with the man. The only thing that kept him from gleefully ripping his lungs from his chest and playing with the remains was the thought that changing something from the past—and as important as a physician no less—may prevent his release from the cage that had held him for so long. So he sat and allowed the old man to poke at him and examine the state of decay his body was in. He didn’t go too far, choosing only to expose himself from the torso up lest he discover the missing extremities. The thin black, sunken crevasses on him were enough, however, to have the physician baffled.

“Truly unprecedented,” the man murmured. “Attacked by sorcerers? Must have been,” he continued without waiting for an answer. “There is nothing else I can think of that would cause wounds like these.” He thought for a moment and Lucifer waited patiently. The sooner this man released him, the sooner he could continue with his plans. “Without knowing exactly what type of spell they used, I am loath to say that I do not have much that can overcome the rapid state of decay your body seems to be going through. Ah! Merlin! I’m glad you’re here.”

Lucifer turned to see the young nephilim from earlier walk through the door of the physician’s dwelling. He couldn’t help the scowl that appeared on his face at the sight of him, he was so revolted with the _thing_ ’s presence. Disgusting.

Both Gaius and Merlin were shocked at his impromptu display, but they quickly turned their attention away when one of the knights began moaning in pain.

Gaius rubbed salve on the worst of Lucifer’s wounds and bandaged him up before sending him on his way. Lucifer took his leave gratefully. He couldn’t be in the same room as that thing without striking it down, damn the consequences. Sure the physician had a bit of angel blood in him, but it was merely a drop compared to the overwhelming odor of human. The other one, though, was nearly overpowered with angel blood. Why the other angels hadn’t decided it was enough to qualify him as a full-blood and smite him where he stood, Lucifer didn’t know.

Lucifer had more self control than that, though it was a close thing. So he left the nephilim to tend to whatever chores the physician had ordered upon it and satisfied himself with the thought that, after this, it would still need to muck out the stables. He would take his victories where he could get them.

Wounds tended to, his men given their assignments, Lucifer allowed himself to be led to his new chambers. He thanked the servant profusely and asked whether it would be appropriate to accompany the king during supper so that he may also give thanks for the magnificent accommodations. He laid it on a bit thick and was satisfied when, even bandaged and rotting, the servant was unable to hide an aroused blush from presenting itself on her face. He shot her one last smile before dismissing her.

Once she was out of the room, Lucifer locked his chamber doors and disappeared with a flap of his wings. He reappeared just outside of the city where a demon had taken hold of the messenger Uther sent out.

“No worries, my liege,” the demon said, sweeping himself into a bow and kneeling before him.

Demons were perhaps even filthier than the humans on this planet, but they served him well so he ignored them for the most part. This ‘my liege’ thing, though. He could get used to that.

“I will leave the messenger in the surrounding forests and return on the morrow to the king.”

Lucifer nodded to him and allowed the demon to rise. “The king must suspect nothing of our presence, is that understood?”

“Perfectly, sire.”

“Do not let me down, demon. I am not of this time, but it will shortly come to pass that I will escape my prison. In that time, I will remember who my aided me in my hunt.” He paused. “As well as those who disrupted it.”

The demon visibly flinched at the implication and bowed again as Lucifer departed back to his chambers.

He reached out again with his mind to keep tabs on those he deemed important to his mission. The demon he had spoken to just seconds before fled deeply into the forest and left his—dead now—vessel behind while he slipped back into the one he had left in the physician’s quarters. No one noticed the slip, fortunately, though it was a near thing. The nephilim and the physician were in the room with him, both of whom would have noticed the unmistakable vision of a demonic possession. If either of them had seen, Lucifer’s mission would have ended before it even began. Neither of the two could be killed, nor could they be possessed with the angel blood running through their veins. Even the physician, who could almost be considered a full-blooded human, could not be possessed, with or without consent.

He would have words with the demon later about his carelessness.

Lucifer allowed his attention to focus on the servant who was now in the king’s chambers, requesting that he dine with his guest in the hall and would he like her to ask the cook to prepare the game Prince Arthur brought in earlier that day? Yes, yes, all good and well. The king would be more than happy to dine with Sir Lucifer, though Arthur would not be in attendance. He and his knights were combing the woods, looking for the escaped sorcerers. They planned keeping to the forest through the night to return in a day’s time.

Lucifer snapped his fingers and brought the messenger’s body to his chambers lest Arthur and his men find it half-hidden in the brush. He would be certain to hide him accordingly once he was through with his survey. It would be hard to explain its presence should a servant stumble upon it.

The servant left immediately to inform Sir Lucifer of the king’s invitation. Uther, on the other hand, sat at the small table in his quarters and took a quick respite. Despite what Morgana believed, Uther’s days were filled with a flurry of activity. Endless amounts of decisions were to be made over the governing of Camelot. Wars were to be fought or avoided, lands distributed, quarrels mollified, and endless—endless—appeals brought to his attention from the citizens of Camelot. This new threat of sorcery was just another item added to the list of nearly overwhelming duties needing the king’s attention. Now, though, there was a lull in activity that allowed the king a small moment of passivity.

He allowed himself to think of the polite smile that would play on Sir Lucifer’s lips as the servant—Miranda, her name was—informed him that the king wished to dine with him tonight. Nothing could come of them, Uther knew. He had known all of his life that feelings such as these, for a man in a lower station especially, could never come to fruition. It did not mean, however, that his thoughts must also be chaste. He knew Miranda would enjoy the smile as well, just as he knew the low blush that would accompany her subtle scrutiny. Would Sir Lucifer turn his affections to her, he wondered?

He was an attractive man, even with the injuries he had sustained in battle. If anything, the pink pallor and the broken lines in his face made him all the more appealing to Uther. It showed the brevity of his soul. This was a man who rode into battle without hesitation. He stood for what he believed in. Uther could tell that, just from his face.

No, he admonished. It wasn’t the man’s face. It was the expression on it—the presence of a goal weighed heavily on his shoulders. He was fighting, even now, for something he wanted, believed in wholeheartedly. That was what appealed Uther to him.

Lucifer pulled out of the king’s mind, shocked that the king had been able to read him so well. Not many had the ability to surprise him, especially not humans who were so filled with sin it surprised him they were still able to think. There proved to be more to the king than what met the eye.

A low knock sounded at his door and Lucifer quickly displaced the messenger’s body to a small, deserted area miles outside of the city. The demon was causing him more trouble than it was worth. Once he was back in his own time, Lucifer was certain it wouldn’t survive even a hour. He would have fun with the demon to make up for its nuisance.

He unlocked his door by hand, not wanting to use any ‘magic’ while in the company of others lest he give something away. The king had already proven more adept at spotting things than he had thought. There was no use in adding another to that list if he could help it.

Miranda only stayed long enough to inform him of the king’s acceptance of his request. She attempted to flirt a bit as well, but Lucifer held her off with a passive smile and an early dismissal. It wouldn’t do him any good to have her attempting something in Uther’s presence. She left disappointed, but Lucifer was far from it. He found himself looking forward to dining with the king. They would be alone and he would not have to work as hard at minimizing his efforts in front of the prince. It was a while still until supper and Lucifer dreaded the wait. For the first time in a long time, he smiled a genuine smile as he pictured the king of Camelot sitting aside him in the dining room.

He paced his room, waiting. It had been a while since he’d been surprised by someone. Even Gabriel’s betrayal had been expected, if still unwelcome. Ah, Gabriel. He’d meant more to Lucifer than most of his brethren. He wasn’t even sure of many their names, but Gabriel had been a trusted confidant. He’d understood the conflict between Lucifer and Michael. When he’d chosen to bow to humanity among the others instead of standing with Lucifer, Lucifer didn’t blame him. Gabriel truly lived to serve their father. No matter the task, he would have obeyed any command their father had laid before him. No, Lucifer didn’t hold a grudge against Gabriel for his servitude. He understood the love for one’s father, though he chose to express it differently.

How could he bow to anything less than the glory of God?

Humanity was flawed, filthy. His father claimed that they were made in his image, but he just wasn’t able to see the hairless apes as anything even close to resembling the awe-inspiring greatness his father carried with him. Others chose to bow, but Lucifer just couldn’t do it. Anything less than the perfection of his father deserved nothing from him. To love them even _more_ than God, like He expected him to? It was… unthinkable.

Still, he didn’t hold his brethren to the same standards that he, himself, held. He made his stand and was cast down for it. That had been the last thing that had taken him by surprise. He expected retribution for his refusal to bow before humanity. He expected his father’s anger. He even expected his father’s wrath. But he never expected to be locked away until the end of time without even the slightest hesitation. It made him angry, sure, but he still loved his father. There was a reason— _had_ to be a reason—but even with Lucifer’s nearly infinite power, He could not be found anywhere. Not on Earth. Not anywhere in the universe. Had He been in Heaven, Lucifer would have known.

So he did the only thing he could think of. He needed no answers. Even after the millennia he had had to stew over the decisions that had led to his imprisonment, he did the only thing he could do. He sought to destroy the humanity that was so valued by his father over the greatest of his angels.

The Winchesters’ blatant refusal to act as vessels definitely did not come as a surprise. He was well versed in the brothers’ history. There had been few cracks in his cage, but there were enough to grasp the changes that had taken place on earth over time. The story of the Winchester brothers had become a sort of obsession to him. He laughed when Mary burned on the ceiling of her infant son’s nursery. He raged when Azazel was killed by the eldest brother in the battle to open the hellgates. He smiled when the youngest died only to be resurrected by his brother, the first step in the apocalypse. With each seal that broke, Lucifer could see more and more of humanity and, in turn, the Winchester brothers.

So, no. It came as no surprise to Lucifer that neither of the brothers would make it a simple task to use their bodies as vessels. He knew them inside and out. He had spent years tracking them and their history through the tiny breaks in his cage. It didn’t surprise him in the least.

Uther, on the other hand, had caught him off guard. He had been read so easily by the king, though he had worked hard to fool the man. Obviously, he’d underestimated his intelligence. From the minds of the commoners in the city, King Uther was a man moronically obsessed with magic in his kingdom. He was a good king when it came to governing the lands, but his obsession with magic had his people cowering in fear of ever being accused of witchcraft. He wasn’t the man who could see straight through to Lucifer’s core. He wasn’t thy type of person to take precaution in trusting a man who had supposedly saved the city from coming sorcerers. He just _wasn’t_ this person.

But, as it turns out, he was. And Lucifer wanted nothing more than to speak to him. Lucifer ceased his pacing, realizing that it was an entirely too human habit, and sat in a chair to wait. He was a patient man.

Still, it would be much too long until supper.

 

__________

 

On the balcony overlooking the now-empty city square—it was much past the new curfew in effect—Lucifer and the king stood side by side, not quite near enough to touch. He was close, Lucifer knew, to getting what he wanted. He wanted entrance, acceptance into Uther’s body. He needed a vessel badly and he would receive it shortly. If not tonight, then certainly tomorrow.

Lucifer raised his goblet of wine to the king, shooting him a coy smirk in the process. Uther smiled back and raised his own glass before drinking. They’d been doing this dance all night. First at dinner, then after when the servants brought in specially prepared fruits that Lucifer was unable to identify, but that tasted so sweet, he was unwilling to leave even a morsel behind. The king had been amused with his appetite and commented good-naturedly on it. Lucifer could say what he wanted about the apes who ruled over this planet, but there was definitely something to be said for their cooking.

As time ran on, Lucifer became more and more entranced with the king. There did not seem to be more than what met the eye, but he was filled with such a strong sense of familiarity that he hadn’t been able to place until now as the king stared longingly out into the square. It was a gaze he’d seen often on his brethren—and his father—before his fall from grace.

 “I understand,” Lucifer began, breaking the silence with soft words, “the need to rid the world of sorcery. It causes nothing but pain and destruction in its wake. But, you are adamant as only a man possessed is able to be. There is a story there, I am sure of it, sire.”

Uther smiled slightly at him. It was a sad smile. “And you would not be wrong,” he said. He looked out at the moon hovering just above the now darkened horizon before he continued. “Magic is a dangerous thing, but despite my preachings, I do not believe it is inherently evil. What matters is its potential to be so. In the wrong hands—in most hands—it is capable of so much pain and suffering. Is it not better to rid the world of this power, good or evil, if it means saving the lives of the citizens in my charge? There are so many people I must protect and it seems to me this is the only way to do that.”

Lucifer had heard similar queries before. Which would be better? he wondered. As Uther had stated, magic was not inherently evil. Only in the wrong hands would it spoil. But if all hands were dirtied when receiving this power, it could only ever be used for wrongdoing. That was the theory, anyway. Besides, Lucifer did not think the king was as principled as he claimed to be.

“Tell me, sire,” Lucifer said. “If your son was found to be sorcerer, what would you do then?”

Uther looked down at him shocked, ready to immediately dispel the man from and charge him with treason should he continue down this path of questioning. Lucifer was not looking at him, however, but up at the stars as if they had some sort of special meaning to him. He looked lost, sad, as if he truly needed an answer only Uther could provide.

Lucifer could see all of this in Uther’s mind and was disappointed in himself for relating his situation to that of the ape before him. To think that he was so lost in his thoughts—and Uther’s—that he could be read so easily, was upsetting. Either way, he looked forward to the king’s answer, hoping for something, but not knowing what it was he hoped for. Honestly, what could the man say that would have any impact on the archangel? He had seen and heard everything. He knew of human selfishness and cowardice. He knew so much about humanity that it was a wonder how the species had not died out over time. Uther had surprised him before, but now that Lucifer had gotten to know the man better—and to know just how far his hatred of magic ran—he knew what the answer would be.

Uther, however, surprised him yet again with his response. It wasn’t the one he expected, not at all, and it was so far from anything he’d been thinking that he couldn’t help but heed every word.

“I couldn’t slay him,” Uther admitted. “No matter the betrayal, I couldn’t do that to my son. Anyone else would be dead where they stood, but Arthur…” he trailed off. “Power corrupts, Sir Lucifer. I have had moments myself, but my people keep me from taking things too far. They humble me. It is my duty to serve them, just as they serve me. My son will also serve this kingdom when he takes the throne and his children after him and on for generations still. We are all but servants of the people, are we not?”

Lucifer couldn’t look at the man then, though he felt Uther’s eyes on him.

“If I believed Arthur was unable to serve these people, would even go as far as to betray everything I believe in, I could not slay him, but neither could I allow him to continue down such a perversive path.”

Uther contemplated the notion that Lucifer could see twirling around his head. He treated it as a legitimate question, something that needed to be solved to the best of his ability, rather than the hypothetical scenario Lucifer had intended to expose his cowardice with.

“I would lock him away,” Uther decided. “Forever if need be. It may be harder on him than the quick death of an axe-head, but I could not order his death and still be able to continue on. I love him too much to take that loss in stride.”

When Lucifer returned Uther’s gaze, he found something he never thought he’d see. He saw a small spark of the magnificent brilliance that was his father in the tired, loving eyes of the medieval king before him. In that instance, Lucifer knew that his mission was hopeless. Humanity was, in fact, made in his father’s image and by not bowing before it, he did not deserve anything less than what punishments his father intoned.

Lucifer’s smile mirrored the king’s. “Thank you, my lord,” Lucifer said. “Your words have helped me a great deal more than you realize.”

“Yes,” Uther said quietly. “I can see that.”

Then, suddenly, their lips met in a chaste kiss that was over before it even began. Neither of them was aware of who initiated it, but both broke it off lest it turn into anything more. They had responsibilities, things that needed their full attention. Nothing could become of them, but both of them wanted.

Lucifer pulled away completely and Uther looked as disappointed and relieved as Lucifer, himself, felt. He knew he couldn’t take the vessel now, even if it meant the death of the body he was in now. Lucifer could wait another decade, century, millennia, to allow Uther to live. The king deserved that much at least for helping him see as his father saw.

“I shall take my leave, sire,” Lucifer said. Then he did something he vowed never to do. He bowed to the man. Not to the king. Not to the ruler. Not to the small part of his father he’d seen in his eyes. He bowed to the man.

When he rose, there were unbidden tears in Uther’s eyes that brought pangs to Lucifer’s chest. His heart chose that very moment to shut down.

“My lord,” he parted.

“Sir knight.”

Lucifer exited the balcony and promptly disappeared back to his own time.

Another snap of his fingers and his clothes were returned to normal. Uther was gone, dead in another time never to be seen again, and Lucifer was left with nothing but answers that just didn’t set well in his defunct stomach.

Things were already in motion. The apocalypse had begun and was fast growing. Despite what he’d heard—felt—Lucifer didn’t want to stop it. Nothing would change.

Just as he deserved, he would burn. And the world would burn with him. 

**Author's Note:**

> Comment, Fearless Readers! It only takes a few keystrokes to drop a quick line with your opinion on it. :)


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